


A Feast of the Mind

by wolfize



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Like literally no real plot at all because I'm trash, M/M, PWP, the food is people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:18:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfize/pseuds/wolfize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will goes to Hannibal intending to sort out his thoughts regarding Alana. Instead the two men dine together, and Will gets more than he bargained for. Shameless PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feast of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the beginning dialogue I quoted from episode 1.09 Trou Normand, but very little of it. I hope this takes care of copyright infringement. Not beta-read, but 'twas edited, so you can tell me if you see any typos.

"The way that I am isn't compatible with the way that-"

"The way that I am," Will finishes for Alana, attempting to shut her up with his lips. She pulls away again.

"I wouldn't be good for you, and you wouldn't be good for me. I would always be probing, analyzing- it's in my nature. And it's in your nature to evade inspection." she says, looking up at him with those baby blue eyes. Will sneaks another kiss and then rests his forehead against hers, breathing in her subtle lilac scent.

"Alana," he sighs into her skin. "I'm not your patient, and you're not my doctor."

"I know," she replies, frustrated. "But that will _always_ be the dynamic between us. I think it's better that we don't do this- whatever 'this' is." Alana pulls brusquely out of Will's embrace. "I think I'd better go," she says hurriedly, and turning on her heel, she’s gone.

Will lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and runs his hands through his tousled hair. He sits down, puts his head in his hands and then gets up, paces about for a second before sitting again, restless, bouncing his knee as if incapable of remaining still. _Why is it always like this_ , he thinks. _How do I manage to screw up everything good that begins to happen to me?_

Winston pads over to him, tail wagging, as if he can feel his daddy's frustration and has come to save the day. Jumping on Will's lap, the dog barks and licks Will's face eagerly to cheer him up. Will cracks a smile and begins to laugh.

"Thanks Winnie," he says, scratching behind his ears and giving the faithful dog a treat. He absent-mindedly glances at his watch before getting himself a glass of water, and after giving Winston a final long scratch, he grabs his coat and gets into his car. Half an hour later, he finds himself parked outside of Hannibal Lecter's office, debating whether or not to enter. Kicking himself over why it is such a fucking issue to go in to see his psychiatrist, Will storms out of the car and treks through the snow, angst building up inside him like erupting lava until he reaches the foyer and storms up to the door of Hannibal's office, from which the doctor himself is currently exiting.

"Oh, Will," says Hannibal, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I didn't expect to see you here," he continues, his eyes giving Will the unsettling feeling that this was, in fact, just what Dr. Lecter expected. Hannibal folds his tailored poplin trench coat over his arm. "I was just on my way to prepare a dinner, care to join me? Misery does seem to love company." Lecter's eyes twinkle dangerously, almost seductively.

"Um," Will begins shakily. "Um I just wanted to talk..about...things."

"Things?" repeats Hannibal, cocking an eyebrow. "Well it’s settled, we can go to my home and enjoy a friendly meal and discuss your...'things', if you will. Off the clock. Just two friends and a meal and a conversation, nothing more." For some reason Will feels a weightiness in that 'more', as if what Hannibal said is the opposite of what he meant. But that's the way it is with him, isn't it? He seems to know Will better than Will knows himself, and Will still doesn't know him at all.

 

* * *

 

 Hannibal regards Will coolly over his impeccably prepared coq au vin. Will avoids his gaze, abandoning the ridiculously aesthetic French cuisine for the ridiculously aesthetic French dessert- a rich crème brûlée sprinkled with brown sugar and topped with a crème fraîche and fresh blackberries.

“Something wrong with the food?” Hannibal questions casually, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.

“No, no of course not. It’s delicious as always. I’m just not very hungry.” Will pushes the food around on his plate, still not looking up at the doctor. Hannibal puts down his fork and dabs at the corners of his mouth with a silk napkin.

“Very well. Come with me to the kitchen; we’ll clear the dishes and you can tell me what’s troubling you.”  Hannibal stands and begins to clear away the dinnerware. Feeling obliged, Will follows suit, picking up the cutlery and the fancy little napkins and following Hannibal into the kitchen.

Hannibal has shed his suit coat and is standing over the sink, sleeves rolled up, immersed in soapy water up to his forearms. Will finds himself admiring the definition of his arms, before he realizes he has been staring. He sneaks a glance at the doctor’s face, and he swears to God the man is smirking, though Hannibal makes no indication that he caught Will ogling. Retreating from the suds, he hands Will a plate and a dishrag.

“I hope I’m not out of place by saying this, but you were quite the hostile dinner guest. What is it that is troubling you?”

Will sighs.

“It’s Alana Bloom. We kisse—I kissed her.”

Hannibal turns off the tap and looks at Will. “What seems to be the problem, then?” he says after a beat, turning back to the dishes.

“I want it to happen, but it’s not going to happen. She can’t let it happen. I can’t make it happen.” Will says, looking down into the shiny pearl dish.

“And why are you so convinced it won’t happen? You’re a handsome man, Dr. Bloom is a beautiful woman, and you have feelings for each other, I would assume.” Will fumbles for a moment, trying to get past Lecter's describing him as 'handsome'. “People believe that love can conquer all. Is that not the way you see it?”

“I don’t know, Hannibal,” Will says, exasperated.

“Is it an issue of intimacy?” says Hannibal, his expression unreadable.

Will opens his mouth and then closes it again, thrown by Hannibal’s forwardness.

“What the hell kind of question is that, Hannibal?” he says, gritting his teeth.

“Simply a question,” the doctor says coolly. “I am trying to help you Will. Do you trust me?” Hannibal is much closer to him now, close enough for Will to smell his subtle cologne. At a loss for words, Will nods.

Hannibal claps him on the shoulder, and something inside of Will clicks. Suddenly, he is acutely aware of everything occurring within and around him, the red hot blood coursing violently through his veins, his labored breathing, Hannibal’s firm hand, heavy on his shoulder, and his own unwelcome erection, which he prays to God Hannibal won’t take notice of. He doesn’t understand what’s happening here, but it’s too late for him to think.

Hannibal gazes deeply into Will’s eyes, those rich brown irises boring into Will’s skull. “Are you hungry, Will?” he asks, his voice hitching on the word hungry, and Will can hear a lilt of desire. Will takes this as an invitation and closes the distance between him and Hannibal Lecter, pushing him up against the cold, steel refrigerator. Their teeth clash, but Will doesn’t care, kissing his doctor passionately and feverishly, one hand on the man’s waist and the other cradling his head as he parts his lips and feels for Hannibal’s tongue, deepening the kiss.

And all of a sudden, he isn't thinking, isn't profiling isn't empathizing; he is just feeling, skin and teeth and tongue against his, tasting, touching, feeling. For a moment they aren’t doctor and patient, nor profiler and serial killer, but simply two lovers, two equals- _feeling_.

Hannibal pulls away, panting and breathless. Domineering as always, he turns and guides Will into what Will quickly finds out is his bedroom. The room is a goldish tan, with blood red curtains and a four poster king bed covered in rich gold and red bedclothes. Will doesn’t have much time to take in Hannibal’s interior decorating skill because now he is being pushed down onto the bed and straddled by one of the most delectable human beings he has had the privilege to lay eyes on. Alana Bloom completely out of his mind, Will Graham begins to undo the pearl buttons on Hannibal’s ridiculously superfluous vest, and thinking better of it for the shirt, simply rips it open, buttons popping as he reveals Hannibal’s well-defined chest.

“That’s going on your bill,” Hannibal breathes, groaning and grinding against Will’s hips as Will runs his hands down his chest and abdomen. “It was a very expensive shirt.” Leaning forward, Hannibal frees Will of his shirt, ripping the last four buttons. “Not as satisfying as I hoped,” he says, splaying his hands on Will’s torso. “What is this anyway, polyester?”

Will decides against making some snide remark, sitting up and kissing Hannibal again. It’s carnal and passionate, nothing but heat and need. He grasps at Hannibal’s back, almost clawing, enjoying the feel of his sinewy muscles under his fingertips and their hips grinding against each other in tandem.

Hannibal pushes him down on the bed again and swivels his hips forward, undoing his belt buckle and unfastening his fucking obnoxious pinstripe trousers, as Will gazes at him, admiring him in awe. Lifting each knee to abandon his suit pants, Hannibal motions for Will to do the same, and he undoes his jeans and lifts his hips, shimmying the pants off, still lying underneath Hannibal. Seeing Hannibal’s powder blue silk linen underwear makes Will wish he had gone for something a little more decent than the well-worn red plaid boxers he has on, but hell, never in a million years did he think he would find himself in this situation.

He can feel, more than see, Hannibal’s arousal, pressed up against him, large and present and hot against his skin. Thinking about it now, Will is wanting so much that he is in physical pain, needing to find his release, needing to find it with Hannibal. Hannibal observes him, ignoring the pleading in Will's eyes to pursue his own intentions. He kisses Will, soft and tender at first, but it becomes something hard and rough and passionate, almost animal, and he bites Will’s lip, a gentle nip at first, and then harder, hard enough to draw blood. It doesn’t hurt Will—well maybe it does—but more than that it drives Will insane and fills him with more desire than he ever thought possible, and he has to restrain himself from begging Hannibal to flip him over and take him as he wants him, right here and now. Hannibal sucks at Will’s lip, tasting his blood—enjoying it, it seems—before retreating to nuzzling and nipping at Will’s neck. Will’s breath is coming short and heavy now, his mind racing and his lips rubbed raw, and all he can do is breathe deeply as Hannibal explores his body, tracing lips and fingers from the base of his neck down his torso and abdomen, until he stops short at the trail of hair below Will’s navel, teasing it with his fingertips.

Time seems to stop, and they both pant like marathon runners before Hannibal’s fingers slip beneath Will’s waistband and caress his aching, tumescent hard-on, leaving Will in a euphoric bliss, his head lolling back.

Moving up to his knees again so that Will can lift his hips, Hannibal discards the ratty old boxers, taking Will’s cock in his hand and stroking him slowly, up and down, up and down, up and down. Grasping the head with his thumb and forefinger, Hannibal rubs his fingers around Will’s most sensitive spot, causing him to buck involuntarily, precome flowing from the tip of his aching cock. Suddenly, Hannibal dismounts Will and gets to his knees on the floor, pulling Will up toward him and taking his head in his mouth. Tantalizingly, he swirls his tongue around it and dips his tongue into the slit to taste the precome pooled there before taking Will’s full length into his mouth and sucking. Will jerks, but Hannibal puts up a hand to steady him, his other hand following his lips as they bob back and forth around Will’s erection. Will whimpers and falls back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands and focusing on the intense pleasure radiating from his groin. Abruptly, Hannibal pulls off of Will’s cock, his lips making an obscene sound as he releases Will’s tip from his mouth. He stands back and steps out of his powder blue boxer briefs, tossing them off to the side where they land, rather humorously, on the antlers of a stag sculpture.

Will gazes at him again in awe, Hannibal's chiseled body glistening with dusts of golden brown hair, his cock, abundant and poised and ready, ready for Will to do with it as he pleases. Sliding off the bed, Will kneels in front of Hannibal, gripping his cock in one hand and stroking it, slowly but firmly, drinking Hannibal in with his eyes and stroking himself with his free hand, enjoying the pleasant warmth lighting up his entire body.

Stroking his own cock languidly, Will runs his tongue up Hannibal's shaft from base to tip, enjoying the rumbling groan this elicits from the doctor. He takes his balls in his hands, putting his lips around Hannibal and sucking him off with such gusto that he can tell that the doctor is almost there, willing to find his release between Will’s lips. Pleased with his results, Will comes off of Hannibal and lays back on the bed, his legs slightly parted, lazily fisting his cock.

Hannibal’s eyes are almost feral, filled with this savage passion that takes Will off guard as Lecter positions himself on top of him. Hannibal puts three fingers to Will’s lips.

“Suck,” he commands, and Will obeys, wetting Hannibal’s fingers in the same way he wet his cock just minutes earlier. Hannibal pulls his fingers out of Will’s mouth and reaches between Will’s legs, slowly and carefully slipping a wet finger into Will’s tight ass.

Will fidgets at first. He’s never had sex with a dude. And he’s never voluntarily—or involuntarily for that matter—had anything up his ass. So it feels weird, maybe even a bit uncomfortable at first. Almost painful, like his skin is being stretched into a new shape. But as Hannibal slowly and gently fingers him open, the slow burn begins to light him up inside, and he can feel a welcome warmth starting from the base of his abdomen and spreading through his chest. Hannibal slips a second finger in, and it’s a surprise, but not unpleasant like the first. Will has become accustomed to it now, and he throws his head back and surrenders his body completely to Hannibal, the controller of his pleasure. Another finger. Will is pleasantly surprised that he is still able to feel this good; actually, probably better than he ever has. Hannibal twists his fingers around inside of Will, probing him in pleasure spots Will didn't even know he had. Catching Will unawares, Hannibal removes all three fingers at once, before spreading Will's legs and situating himself between them. Reaching over to the night stand, Hannibal, breath catching in his throat, opens a drawer and produces a condom. Still holding Will’s legs apart, he rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls it over his length.

Will looks at Hannibal expectantly, and the doctor presses himself against Will’s hole, slowly pushing in. Will can feel himself being filled up, and it feels glorious, and they’re sweaty and passionate and in need, and Hannibal is slow at first but begins to build up and find his rhythm, and Will and Hannibal are rocking together, intertwined in body and soul, and Will has never felt so connected to another human being. Hannibal kisses Will, and Will kisses him back, and again there is that sweet array of tongue and teeth and hot breath and moans. Will begins to touch himself, and there's the heat of his hand and the heat of Hannibal pushing deep inside him, and Will thinks to himself that if there is a God he ought to thank him later for allowing this kind of feeling to be accessible by man. Devoid of any coherent thought he strokes himself frantically with one hand and clutches Hannibal’s back with the other, kissing him as if to devour him. Hannibal moans into Will’s neck and Will lets out a sound that can only be described as a whimper as the two ride the waves of pleasure and bliss. Hannibal’s thrusts are gradually increasing speed and Will can tell Hannibal is close to his peak, and he himself is too, and he just wants to come and then lay sprawled across the bed with this man on top of him, drinking in his scent.

"I want to consume you," Hannibal breathes, his voice almost a hiss, and Will is trapped in the throes of his passion and can't bring himself to form a coherent response. Hannibal’s breath hitches, and a switch in Will’s brain is triggered. A carnal, almost primal sound escapes his throat as he steels himself for his climax.

“Will,” moans Hannibal as begins to reach his end. “Will,” _there he goes again_ , Will thinks.

“Shut up and come with me goddamnit,” Will growls as he grows nearer and nearer to finishing all over Hannibal’s hard stomach. _Almost there…almost there_ —

 

* * *

“Will!” Hannibal’s sharp voice brings Will out of his trance.

He looks around, dazed and confused. He’s sitting in the foyer of Dr. Lecter’s office, sweaty and breathless, while Hannibal stands in the doorway of his office gazing at him, smirking and expectant. “You seem troubled,” says the doctor, a smile playing on his lips. “Come, I can see you’re very eager. You can tell me all about your problems,”

Will is confused, and frankly, quite angry. _I am eager_ , he thinks to himself, adjusting his hopefully not-too-obvious hard on. _And I was about to come. We were about to come, goddamnit._

Lecter enters the office, not waiting to see if Will is following behind. Will reluctantly gets to his feet and follows, shutting the office door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna find me I'm at [deanwinnerchest](http://deanwinnerchest.tumblr.com) on tumblr, shoot me a message or a critique if you want. Kudos, comments, and critiques appreciated!


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